Stray Italian Greyhound
by Kuruk
Summary: This feeling calls for everything that Silver is not, so he gradually learns to become what he isn't. — Silver, Lyra, Ethan.


_Notes: Cross-posting from LJ. This must be the closest to a "slice-of-life" fic I've ever written... __My usual take on the new Johto OT3's (Ethan+Lyra+Silver) dynamic is "perverted douchebag + bubbly mediator + grumpy asshole." The acquaintance I wrote this fic for, however, preferred to think of the Johto OT3 as two ditzy brain twins and a tsundere Silver, so to write something she'd enjoy I went with her preferred characterizations. __Lyra is the Champion and Ethan is the Daycare Couple's grandson. __Named for the Vienna Teng song, which strikes me as the quintessential tsundere!Silver song. Hope you enjoy._

_Characters: Silver+Lyra+Ethan. Mentions of Giovanni and Lance._

_Universe: Game - HG/SS._

_Warnings: fluff._

_Disclaimer: I do not own _Pokémon,_ nor do I stand to profit from this in any form. All mistakes are my own._

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><p><em><strong>stray italian greyhound<strong>_

The sudden burst of sunlight makes his eyes hurt. Accustomed as they are to the darkness of the Dragon's Den, he can't help but worry that he'll go blind from the trauma his kidnapper has just subjected his retinas to.

"Isn't it a beautiful day?" Lyra asks cheerfully.

Silver's eyes are closed against the pain, but he grunts in affirmation anyway. The soft hand wrapped around his squeezes, and he can feel warmth of her skin begin to seep through the worn leather of his gloves.

"Aren't you glad you listened to me? If you hadn't you'd still be stuck in that gloomy cave, after all!"  
><em><br>No,_ Silver wants to say. _I wish I hadn't.  
><em>  
>The truth is that he would much rather be stuck in his gloomy cave. He prefers his surroundings to remain static; despite the fact that he had done his fair share of it a couple of years before, he has never been too enamored with traveling. Dragon's Den may not be home, but it has enough of what he needs at the moment to serve as an extended rest stop – wild pokémon that are still strong enough to pose a challenge, relatively clean water to drink and bathe in, a steady source of income from the pitifully weak novice trainers hoping to pass the Dragon User's challenge….<p>

The place has it all, really. Who cares if it's dark and gloomy? Hell, maybe he even prefers it that way. He certainly doesn't need Miss Goody-Goody Two-Shoes to break his routine, especially if it's to indulge her fanciful whims:  
><em><br>Silver, don't you think this ice cream is ah-ma-zing?  
><em>  
>Or:<br>_  
>Silver, come help me pick out a new hat!<br>_  
>And, worst of all:<p>

_Ethan and I want to hang out with you, that's all!  
><em>

As if the situation wasn't already bad enough, that's the excuse she's using today.

The thing is that Silver cannot stomach the idea of doing anything simply for the sake of doing it. He tries giving purpose to everything he does by questioning if it is relevant to his goals. If it is – if it would help make him stronger – he would do it; if not, he would not. It is really that simple.

Still, Lyra has a way of making him do the things he doesn't want to. It's infuriating, and Silver doesn't like it one bit, but he's learned to just go with it.

So he doesn't voice his thoughts. He does frown though, the downward twist of his lips belying the light flush the sun has lent his pale cheeks.

What can he say? Old habits die hard.

Her fingers ghost over his cheeks, and Silver jerks back, startled.

"You sure do burn easy!" Lyra points out.

Impossibly, more color floods his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his neck. "S-shut up."

She giggles and tugs at his hand.

Well, at least some old habits are.

— . . . —

Lyra is enough to handle on her own, so it's just too much to handle when she drags her freaky brain twin along.

Ethan is cheerful and loud and insists on touching _everything._ Usually (thankfully) it's Lyra – the honey-brown ends of her hair, the brim of her ridiculous mushroom-shaped hat, her extremely ticklish sides – but sometimes, and with increasing frequency, it's _Silver _he touches – the dulled crimson of his ends, the calloused skin of his palms, the threadbare laces of his sneakers.

It's enough to drive him crazy.

"Your hair's really dry." Ethan hums as they wait for the waitress to bring them their orders. "You should really do something about it."

Silver slaps his hands away from his hair and scowls at the other boy through his bangs. "I'm not going to waste my hard-earned money on that stupid shampoo and conditioner _you_use," he snaps scathingly.

He'd been aiming to insult the other boy's manhood, but Ethan just continues to smile, nonplussed. From across the table, Lyra laughs and slurps at her soft drink – a disgustingly pink concoction that fizzles with seemingly inexhaustible effervescence.

They are sitting at a booth in one of Goldenrod City's many diner-joints. Silver has reached the conclusion they're all the same, but Lyra and Ethan insist that _this one_is the very best. Though he can't detect the difference between the grease-soaked fries and overwhelmingly sweet milkshakes those dumps dish out (not to mention the lackluster service), he humors them and only grumbles about the distance they have to walk to reach the damn restaurant.

"I still don't see why you idiots made me walk all the way over to this place," he grouses.

"It's about the environment, Silv," Lyra reminds him for what must be the umpteenth time. "You know, the _ambiance._"

Beside him, Ethan nods his agreement rather vigorously. "Yeah! I mean, where else can you find a place that's been decked out wall-to-wall in stuff from the 50s?"

"I know, right?" Lyra exclaims.

They beam at each other, and Silver feels the creaky cushions under his ass shift as Ethan extends his leg to touch Lyra's foot with his own.

"_Why_do you two drag me along on your dates?" Silver groans, covering his aching eyes with his hands.

There is silence for a few moments before Lyra speaks. "I never thought of them that way," she says, her voice sounding a bit confused. "Are they still dates if there are three people on them?"

"Wait – _what_?"

Ethan fiddles with one of the drawstrings of his hoodie, considering. "I guess…" he says eventually. "As long as everyone likes each other the same, and all."

Lyra smiles. "Well, that's not a problem then!"

Silver nearly chokes on his own spit. "_W-what?_"

Ethan laughs and stretches his arms, and Lyra reaches out across the table to grab his hand in her own. By that time, Ethan has surreptitiously wrapped his arm around Silver's shoulders, a corny grin on his face.

Silver has since turned a horrid shade of red that rivaled his hair color. "Y-you two better be _joking_!"

Lyra and Ethan just laugh at the outburst (as they always do), leaving Silver to ramble on and on about their dearth of common sense and overabundance of stupidity and how disgustingly morally deficient they are until the waitress returns with their food and raises a thin eyebrow at them before dropping the steaming plates on the tabletop.

It isn't until then that Silver notices that Ethan's arm is still wrapped around his shoulders and that Lyra is still holding his hand. Entwined as their limbs are, they make an odd and misshapen circle—two giggling idiots and a bumbling fool.

Silver grows ever redder at the realization at what it must look like.

(Still, he does not shrug them off.)

— . . . —

Silver returns to his cave and Lyra and Ethan crawl back to wherever it is they came from, much as they always do after their excursions.

But whenever they come calling for him again, Silver joins them with considerably less protests.

— . . . —

They rent out a small house a few miles north of the Lake of Rage for the summer.

Rather, Lyra rents out a place with the money she had been saving from all her battling and Ethan decides to move in with her. It takes them a while to convince Silver to leave the Dragon's Den, and when they finally drag him from the cave's dark depths, he comes reluctantly, grumbling all the way.

It's more of a cabin, really. It stands humbly in a small clearing in the thick forest, complete with a rickety wooden porch and crooked brick chimney. There is no electricity or running water. It has big windows with no curtains and unfinished hardwood floors, the surface rife with splinters.

"We'll get them finished," Lyra promises.

Ethan smiles. "Yeah, just don't take off your shoes. Those things really _hurt_if you do…."

Silver sighs in resigned exasperation. "You two are ridiculous."

They share a bedroom, as there is only one. It gets cold at night, so they sleep pressed together in a single bedroll, their pokémon spread out around them. The first few nights he spends in the cabin are restless, and a distant numbness sets into Silver's thoughts and sight. He goes about his days as if he were walking through a fog, and is more prone to anger than usual. Lyra and Ethan give him the wide berth during their waking hours, opting to explore the surrounding forest and leave their red-haired companion to his brooding.

Silver lies awake at night and feels smothered and their suffocating warmth, his limbs numb where Ethan's head and Lyra's abdomen have cut off the circulation. He stares at the ceiling and listens to the trilling of the forest's bug pokémon, the sharp hoot of the ever watchful noctowl, and the deep rhythm of his companions' breathing.

When Silver was younger he dreamed of holding the world in his hands and making its people bow to him in submission. Yet now, small as it looks from this little wooden cabin in the forest, it seems more unconquerable than ever before. Then again, perhaps it is Silver who has shrunk. Weathered and eroded by the world's trials and tribulations, made smooth and modest so that his ambition no longer compels him to seek such ambitious and ultimately fruitless pursuits. He remembers his father and thinks if he ever felt this way—if the red-eyed boy and the dissolution of his organization had made him see how small he was relative to the vastness of the world like Lyra and the (former) Johto Champion had done for him.

For the first time in years, Silver finds himself hoping the best for the man.

Too exhausted to feel anything at the thought, he burrows his face into his pillow and lets out a small, shuddering exhale.

Before he knows it, he has fallen asleep.

— . . . —

The sunlight filters through the windowpane and wakes them the next morning.

Ethan mumbles a bit as he hovers between wakefulness and sleep while Lyra stretches, chirping greetings at the pokémon as they also begin the lumbering rise to the surface of awareness.

Silver observes them groggily, his head perched on his arm.

When Lyra notices him, she offers him a smile. "Sleep well?" she asks hopefully.

He considers for a moment before replying. "Yeah."

He is stiff and sore from their cramped sleeping arrangements, but it's true. This is the first restful sleep he's gotten in days.

Ethan mumbles some more and lets out a small groan, burying his face into the covers and tucking his feet under Silver's calves. "Just five more minutes, guys," he says, voice laced with sleep.

Lyra give Silver a wry look, and the redhead shrugs with pseudo-apathy the question her gaze holds.

And so they doze the morning away.

— . . . —

Lyra slathers sunscreen onto Silver's body, paying special attention to his cheeks and nose. "It's a sunny day; we wouldn't want you to burn," she says cheerily.

Ethan tears past them and jumps into the lake like a cannonball, Marill close behind. The resulting splash gets them both wet, and Silver yells a few obscenities at him when he surfaces, laughing at them. Unfortunately for him, Feraligatr chooses to swipe her tail in the boy's general direction, causing a small wave to swallow Ethan, who goes under with a small yelp.

Silver snickers and offers Feraligatr an approving nod. Satisfied, she sinks under the surface again.

"I swear," Lyra sighs, her hands rubbing lotion onto Silver's pale stomach in circular motions, "you guys are something else."

Ethan breaks the surface with a gasping intake of breath. "_Silver_! No fair!"

The redhead raises his hands in an effort to shrug off responsibility. "I didn't do it."

Ethan crosses his arms over his chest and promises vengeance.

Silver just rolls his eyes and ignores him.

When Lyra finishes applying sunscreen to Silver's pallid skin, he joins Feraligatr in the lake. He lounges on her stomach as she floats on her back, his feet hanging in the cool water. On the shore, Lyra sunbathes with Meganium and the rest of the pokémon, occasionally shouting happily at her red-scaled Gyarados as the pokémon swims through the waters of her ancestral home.

The day ends with a splash war that is brought about by Ethan's promise of revenge. They walk back up the path to their little house in the woods sopping wet and laughing, holding onto each other's sun-warmed skin to avoid slipping on the stone-paved path.

— . . . —

Eventually the summer comes to and end and they leave their little cabin; Lyra resumes her duties as Champion and Ethan goes to work for his grandparents. Silver returns to his cave and broods as he always has, training and earning his money like he has become accustomed to.

At night, however, they rejoin each other, laughing and giggling and grumbling like the misshapen circle they've learned to be.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you taking the time to do so!_


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